The Light At The End Of The Tunnel
by Duck Life
Summary: Bella died. Years later, Edward discovers the reason he didn't go to the Volturi when she did. Please R&R!
1. Prologue

I sank into the comfortable white couch in Tanya's living room. Alice raced down the stairs after lugging her impossible number of suitcases into one of the guest rooms. She hesitated, wondering if she should sit down with me or keep walking. She shook her head subtly and hurried into the next room. I sighed. There had been a time, years ago, when my family didn't shoot worried glances at me every few minutes, when they didn't speak in hushed voices about my condition, when they didn't automatically exclude me from baseball games. It was strange, because I had found something I missed almost as much as I missed _her_: normality. Everyone assumed that I needed solitude to heal. However, without their distractions, I could do nothing but ache. Death had ripped, burned, shredded every reason for living. And yet, I lived on. I told myself that I felt obligated to stay with my family. But, I knew in my heart that it was something else. I _wanted_ to live. I _was _healing. I could bring back memories without wanting to break something. I could stay calm in even the most horrible times. I could draw a mask over my internal breakdowns. But I was broken, because _she _was broken, and we were one. So why was I alive? I felt like there was some reason, something holding me here, and I intended to find out what it was.


	2. Chapter 1

I was lying on my bed in the Denali clan's smallest guest room, trying to sink into nothingness. I could hear crinkling leaves waving in the wind outside my window. I heard the softest pattering of birds' wings in the air. I heard the quiet, irregular breathing of Emmett and Rosalie in the room next to me. They were conversing in soft, musical tones.

"He's not getting any better, is he?" murmured Rosalie sadly, and with a jolt, I realized they were talking about me.

"Well, no," admitted Emmett, "But we're all surprised he didn't just…kill the wolf," he defended. I froze. They were talking about _her_.

"It wasn't his fault! She ran away!" declared Rosalie testily, her voice raising an octave. I heard Emmett shush her.

"I think he just needs time," he mumbled after a long moment.

"It's been seven years!" Rosalie shrieked in a whisper. "He still mopes around all the time-"

"At least he's moping!" said Emmett. "At least that's all he's done!" I heard him lean against the wall, and it was obvious that the discussion was over. I sighed. It _was _all I did, besides hunting. I didn't read anymore; I was only reminded of the beaten copy of Wuthering Heights I had read as she slept. I couldn't play the piano anymore; my fingers automatically slipped into _her _lullaby. My siblings had gone to a high school in Alaska for a few years, but I had stayed home. How could I sit in the cafeteria, just to turn, to look into _her _eyes, and see nothing? How could I sit in class beside an empty seat? A seat that should be filled, a seat that should have _her _in it. I was alone. And that was the only word that could ever describe me, the only thing about me. It was all I was. I paled, shut my eyes, and sank into my near-constant gaping hole of utter depression.


	3. Chapter 2

I was sobbing. Dry, throaty, tearless sobs. It was the first time in months that I had let myself sink that far into my depression. Now that I had, I was trying to forcibly bring back every memory I had of _her_. How her heartbeat sped up every time I touched her, how she blushed tomato red every time she was embarrassed, how her hands worked through my hair when we kissed, how her laugh sounded like a chorus of bells, how her brown eyes seemed to fill me with happiness just looking into them, how she absolutely could not walk across a perfectly flat surface without finding something to trip over… I laughed, and it sounded wrong, too harsh. Once I started, I couldn't stop, and I began snickering, shouting, guffawing. I wondered vaguely if I was going completely insane, but, before I could contemplate it, the laughing had blended into sobs again.

Gone. White, cold…dead. Empty. Her beautiful eyes, blank. Her heart, still. Silent. I forced myself to picture it, because I deserved to feel this awful pain. I deserved every second of it, because everything was my fault. I should have been faster to save her. I should have followed her to La Push, even if it did mean breaking the treaty. I needed her.

It ached to wonder, to feel curiosity, but I did. Why did she jump? Why would she want to end her life? The only answer I could find was that the decision she had to make was too hard, and, in a moment of desperation, she had sought to escape it. It was my fault for pushing her into the choice. Why couldn't I just let the dog have her? Why did I have to keep tearing her apart? In that moment, all I felt was utter hatred. I hated myself, I hated Carlisle, for creating me, I hated James, Victoria, and the Volturi, for letting me live. I hated my family, I hated the Denali clan, I hated the world. I lay very still for a long time, letting an occasional sob break through. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my back. I tried to shrug it off, but it held firm. Then, the hand began to stroke my back, soothing me. I rolled over. It was a vampire, a female. I didn't recognize her. She was tall, freckly, and blond. She looked to be eighteen or nineteen years old. She looked sympathetic and worried.

"It's okay," she whispered softly. And, strangely, unexplainably, the words were true.


	4. Chapter 3

"Who are you?" I questioned dully, sitting up. She watched me, as if to see if I was about to start crying again. I took a deep breath and stared at her. Her eyes were a reddish-orange: The eye color of a vampire that just recently converted to "vegetarianism". I wondered if she had been living here with Tanya's family. I wouldn't have noticed.

"I'm Lydia," she said quietly. Her voice was slightly rougher than most vampires. Inadvertently, surprisingly, questionably, I liked that about her. I studied the strange vampire more carefully. Her hair was pale blond, stringy and long. It flowed around her gracefully. Light freckles dusted her nose, and her eyebrows seemed permanently arched. She smile and stood up. "Follow me!" she whispered in excitement. I did, impulsively jumping to my feet and trailing her out of the door. She led me outside, to a small grove of pine trees a few miles away from the house. It was deserted. Shimmery frost clung to each branch on every tree. _Beautiful_, I thought. It seemed amazing that I had been missing out on the wonder of nature, cooped up in the house in mourning. What else had I missed out on?

Lydia turned gracefully and sunk into a lotus position on the cold ground. She beckoned for me to follow. We sat there for a while, appreciating the soft snow drifting down, not saying anything. "I know you're in pain," she said after a while, turning to me. I was a little taken aback by her blunt approach.

"That's none of your business," I answered curtly. She stared at me, concern almost screaming from her eyes.

"Maybe not," she said quietly, "But it is your family's business. They miss you." I looked at her, wondering if she had been sent by one of them to bring me out of my depression.

"How long have you been here?" I asked, trying to hide my accusatory tone- maybe she really did care. She shrugged.

"A couple of months," answered Lydia. I nodded slowly. Silence returned, and the snow began to slow. Finally, she said, "I think we should go inside." I turned to her. There really was no reason. We wouldn't get tired or hungry from staying outside for too long. The snow didn't bother us. "They'll get worried," she said, answering my questioning gaze. She leapt up and extended a hand to help me up. It was a very human gesture. When I was standing up, we were extremely close and holding hands. Neither of us moved. Her cool breath ruffled my hair ever so slightly. I inhaled. Neither of us moved. Then, Lydia, sensing the strange tension, backed away. "We should go." I followed her back towards the house, wondering all the while why there had been such strangeness between us.


End file.
